


bad ideas

by fandrastic



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandrastic/pseuds/fandrastic
Summary: Tom makes a lot of decisions.Some of them are pretty bad.





	bad ideas

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory disclaimer from a cranky "author":  
> i've had work stolen in the past and i stg if i find this reposted on wattpad or some other garbage site, i will come to your house, toss your computer or tablet or phone into the sea, and then punch you in the throat.
> 
> that being said...
> 
> this is meant to be a fun, possibly overly-saccharine piece of fiction. this fic has a timeline that is NOT accurate and i that's because i wrote it pretty quickly. it's not... historically accurate in that sense. it's supposed to be fun and cute. so don't take it too seriously. i clearly didn't.
> 
> with that out of the way, please let me know what you think! there will hopefully be more work from me soon! or not. we'll see how it goes.
> 
> x  
> fandrastic

**bad ideas**  
  


 

 

Tom is kind of concerned when Jon tells him they’ve got a Disney kid ready to run a chemistry test with him.

He is a _mostly_ serious actor and this girl, whoever she is, well, is… is not.

Probably, right? Disney machine and all that?

At the end of the day, Tom understands that Disney is a business and there are endless interconnections between ABC and Marvel and it’s really no use in arguing.

And besides, the last ‘MJ’ he tested with? No spark at all.

It couldn’t hurt to see how well this girl could play off him.

 

The heavy soundstage door squeaks pitifully when it opens, and that’s the first time he spots her _(Zendaya? Zendieya?)_ , spots her in the flesh and not when he squints at his phone screen, grinning at a cute girl he doesn’t know, who is lip-syncing to Beyoncé in her car.

Oh.

 _That_ Zendaya.

At this current moment in time, she has like 20 some-odd million followers on her social media accounts… probably a thousand more by the time his train of thought collides with the back of his teeth as he fumbles to make _some_ sort of coherent noise in greeting. She’s already met everyone else in the room with firm handshakes and a smile, when he voices what he _really_ hopes is the correct pronunciation of her name.

Context clues tell him to stick out his hand to shake hers, cautious of her alarmingly long fingernails, painted pale pur—she goes for a hug instead and they bump, awkwardly.

Very awkwardly.

 

Bad idea.

 

Zendaya laughs, friendly and full, and Tom is mortified.

When she steps back, she has one hand on her hip, and cocks her face to the side.

“Face it, Tiger,” she smiles, “You just hit the jackpot.”

 

His jaw drops.

Not a lot, just enough to give a passable goldfish impression.

 

Jon is losing his mind behind the camera, laughing and cheering, while Kevin and Amy share knowing looks.

For a few seconds, Tom has no retort at all.

“Sorry, the opportunity presented itself and I just couldn’t help it,” Zendaya laughs, no longer a walking, talking version of his comic book crush, but instead a relatively normal 19 year old girl.

Only very tall and very beautiful and very much waiting for him to finally say something kind of gir—

“You’ll get points for that,” he smiles back, ingrained British politeness kicking in, smothering his nerves and restarting whatever part of his brain actually makes him a normally functioning human and not a babbling mess of a boy. Man.

 

-x-

 

Their chemistry test is incredible.

Despite height differences and clashing accents and varying levels of acting experience… they work well together. She’ll need some more practice. Whatever Disney show she’s on isn’t exactly Shakespeare in the Park, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm.

And her sense of humor and comedic timing? Impeccable, and something that can’t be faked.

Before she leaves, he goes for the hug and she tricks him with a handshake, _cheeky_ , and wishes him luck, even if she doesn’t get the part.

The door still squeaks when she leaves.

“Remind me,” he turns to the execs and directors in the room. “Do I get a vote on who plays MJ?”

Kevin wears a look beneath his ball cap that definitely says ‘no’, while Jon gives a promising shrug that Tom almost believes.

“A discussion for another time.” Amy says breezily, “Besides, we still have several girls waiting to test with you.”

“Oh. Well if I get any say, I choose her.”

 

-x-

 

She gets the role.

Tom carefully counts all the scenes they’ll have together.

 

-x-

 

Yes, he has a bit of a crush on her.

It’s a bad idea.

 

But she’s his MJ. What else is he supposed to do?

 

He tries not to think about her boyfriend.

 

-x-

 

Atlanta is hot.

Miserably fucking hot.

 

There are a few upsides. He _loves_ his cast. They’re all bonding tightly with each other, and not a day goes by that someone isn’t brought to tears with laughter by the end of the evening. These friendships are solidified in days, friendships Tom can’t imagine living without now.

Their movie is going to be amazing.

The house he’s staying in is _huge_ , and private, and it’s only natural that they all gravitate towards his place, but mostly his pool.

By the pool, the girls pay the boys very little attention, instead taking overly-filtered bathing suit selfies that Tom will like on Instagram later when he’s pretending to be asleep.

The boys play a pathetic but aggressive game of made-up water basketball, and Tom tries to simultaneously flex and silently will Zendaya to look at his bare chest.

A bad idea.

 

-x-

 

_(At one point it will work, definitely a coincidence, and he’ll throw the ball to her. She’ll catch it easily with her long, manicured fingernails, and lob it back, not accounting for a lot of things with a cheap misshapen ball from a nearby dollar store, and hit Tony square in the chest. They’ll all laugh, long minutes of sputtering and giggles, and Tom will mull over the shape of her grin for days to come.)_

 

-x-

 

He’s filming when he finds out about her breakup, and it’s horrible.

Harrison teases him only a little when he asks him to find some way to send her flowers.

 

Later that night, after he’s showered off all the sweat from his horrible and amazing Spider-Man suit, he looks at his phone, and the waiting text from her.

 

-x-

 

_To: Z (or MJ),_

_If you ever need someone beat up, I know a few people. Two of them are named Chris._

_Always here if you need anything._

_x_

_Tom_

 

She sends a picture of the card from the sunflowers, and two emojis.

The crying face he understands.

He tries not to dwell on the little yellow heart.

 

-x-

 

They don’t see each other for almost two and a half months.

Tom lives on text messages alone.

 

-x-

 

Zendaya’s part in their movie is relatively small, so they don’t see each other as much as he’d want.

She’s filming a musical in New York, and Spider-Man’s shooting days in Queens line up perfectly with a week she has off.

Months have flown by and her breakup a thing of the past, and she gives him a big smile once she spots him. He meets her hug effortlessly now, their friendship more solid than just teasing.

“So, what would you like to do?” She asks him, hands in her pockets as she peers at him.

He thinks.

He wants something to remind himself of this movie, of this big break, of moments like this where he could power everything in his house by the brightness of her smile.

A tattoo. Tom wants a tattoo. His parents will kill him.

It’s a pretty bad idea.

So Zendaya takes him to a tattoo parlor and chats easily with the artists and holds his white-knuckled hand the entire time a stranger drags a needle across the bottom of his foot.

Romantic movies would tell him that his affection for her would block all pain from his body. Not true.

His nerves are _screaming_.

But she laughs when he winces and whimpers, and that’s almost as good as any painkiller.

 

-x-

 

He crashes at her apartment that night, and tries very hard not to earn any disapproving looks from Darnell.

It’s not just a bad idea, it’s a terrible idea.

They’re watching Scandal, because they’re both a little tired of John Hughes and also Zendaya has the remote. Tom’s heard maybe six or seven words from the show, too preoccupied with the sensation of a very funny and very nice girl sort of smooshed against his side as they sprawl on her sofa.

It gets late.

Darnell has given up on them, and Harrison is snoring in the nearest bedroom.

The second bedroom door clicks closed, and immediately her posture slackens even more, which is a little surprising because she really looked relaxed.

It’s just the two of them now. It’s not weird.

“Everything alrigh—oh.”

She scoots closer, and rests her head on his shoulder.

They’re both very still. Her hair smells amazing. He’s suddenly very aware of when the last night he showered was, and how he can’t get his damn tattoo wet and just—

“Zip it,” she mumbles, and burrows down determinedly. “Your thoughts are loud. Unless… this is too weird?”

“N-no, no, no. Not weird. Not weird at all.” He backtracks unconvincingly.

She sits up to look him in the face, and he regrets his words instantly.

“Now _you’re_ being weird. Am I making you uncomfortable? Because I’ll stop, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! You’re not, I’m just being, I mean, I’m the weird one, right? You? You’re, uh, you’re great! Really great, and it’s not weird. I mean, it’s good-weird. Very good-weird. Oh my god. I’m sorry. I just really like you.”

_Fuck._

“I really like you too.”

He blinks, and it’s just as stupid as all the cartoons make it look.

“Oh.” He says. “Well... good.”

“Look at us, finally agreeing on something,” she smirks, but it’s more sweet than sour and the sight of it smacks him straight in the chest. A pretty punch that hits that tender spot behind the cage of his ribs. She leans back down, resting more of her weight against him, and he can hear the imaginary cheers from all her fans when he puts his arm around her.

They snuggle for maybe 15 seconds.

“This show is unnecessarily dramatic,” he speaks tentatively.

“What!? Unnecessarily dram—you know what? Never mind, I take it all back!”

“ _No!_ ”

 

-x-

 

Harrison finds them curled up on the sofa the next morning, half snoring and not cute, and kicks them both without fanfare.

“Next time I catch you both like this, I’m posting it on Instagram.”

It’s a likely threat, but it hardly even registers when Zendaya offers him a drowsy grin.

 

-x-

 

“You drooled on me last night.”

“Yeah? Well… you talk in your sleep,” she counters hotly, her face a little red. It’s stupid how endearing it is to him. Everything she does is endearing. It’s stupid.

“Hear anything interesting?”

“Just nonsense. Same as when you’re conscious.”

Tom has to bite his cheek to keep from grinning boyishly.

“Do you still like me?”

Zendaya doesn’t say anything, but hides her blushing face in his shoulder. It’s a good enough reply for him.

 

-x-

 

She’s got her nails short again.

It’s probably so she doesn’t accidentally claw Zac Efron’s eyes or something, but he kind of misses how dangerous they make her hands look.

By the same token, it doesn’t hurt as much when she holds his hand now.

And she holds his hand a _lot._

So that’s a plus.

 

-x-

 


End file.
